Free Knight of Desire by Margaret Mallory

military strategy with Prince Harry. After all, the prince was in command
     of all English forces fighting the Welsh. The young man showed such remarkable talent for military command that Parliament
     had given him the responsibility two years ago, at the age of sixteen.
    Tonight, however, William did not care about a French invasion. To hell with the damned French.
    As soon as the nursemaid took Jamie up to bed, William began to calculate how many hours before he could follow with Catherine.
     When the prince rose to his feet, he felt hopeful.
    “May I take your wife for a walk in the garden?” The prince was already holding his arm out to Catherine as he asked the question.
    William could not very well tell the heir to the throne he would rather have a dagger twisted in his gut. If he gave his consent
     without much grace, the prince did not seem to notice.

    Catherine took great solace in having even a short visit with her friend. Though Harry had an air of authority about him now,
     she could still see in him the boy who pulled her hair and slipped beetles down her back. Despite his annoying pranks, they
     had always been close.
    She was glad Harry had those early years running wild at Monmouth, before his father usurped the throne. Being heir to the
     throne, especially in such troubled times, was a heavy burden.
    “You make a fine prince, dear Harry,” she said, squeezing his arm as they left the hall. “One day, you will make an even finer
     king.”
    “God grant my father many years,” Harry murmured.
    They sat on a bench in the garden to talk.
    “You should not have taken the risks you did,” he said, shaking his head.
    They had had this argument many times before.
    “It is over now, and I am safe,” she reminded him with a smile.
    “It was a close thing. My father—” Harry stopped and seemed to struggle to rephrase his words. “The king was so angry with
     Rayburn that he was inclined to send you to the Tower, despite my arguments.”
    The tension between the king and his heir was no secret. After criticizing Harry for being too weak when he was young, the
     king now appeared at times to consider him a threat. The king resented all the praise of Harry’s military successes and his
     popularity among the common folk. For Harry’s part, his innate sense of honor was violated time and again by actions his father
     took to retain power.
    “ ’Tis a good thing FitzAlan chose to wed you.” Harry looked off into the distance, his face grave. “If the king had imprisoned
     you or permitted an ‘accident’ to befall you…” He sighed and squeezed her hand. “I have forgiven my father many things, but
     I could not have forgiven him that.”
    They sat in silence for a time.
    “FitzAlan seems to be a good man,” Harry said in a soft voice. “Can you be happy with him, Kate?”
    “Happy?” she said, surprised at the question. She paused to consider it. “You would not want to stand in William’s way. But,
     beneath his fierceness, there is kindness in him.”
    In sooth, there was much to like and respect about her new husband. She felt more at ease with him each day. Soon, she would
     trust him enough to go to his bedchamber, as he asked.

    Luckily, William could follow the men’s conversation at the table with only half an ear. They talked, as they always did,
     of the Welsh rebels and their leader, Owain Glyndwr. For the hundredth time, he heard them complain of the rebels’ uncanny
     ability to strike and disappear into the woods. They made the usual uneasy jests about the claim that Merlyn, Arthur’s mythical
     magician, had returned to aid Glyndwr. William had heard it all before.
    He flicked his eyes to the doorway again. Catherine and the prince had been gone for the better part of an hour.
    At the sound of a woman’s laughter, he leapt to his feet. Prince Harry and Catherine entered the room, arm in arm and smiling
     into each other’s eyes. Someone tugged at William’s arm.